PosterPerfect Princess
by darksidesparkles
Summary: The Empire had a very poor image, so when a force-strong daughter of Sidious is "discovered", what's an Emporer to do but use her to his advantage?
1. Chapter 1

Poster Princess

Summary: The Empire had a very poor image, and the addition of troops on several planets, the destruction of Alderan, and the Rebellion destroying the Death Star was not helping matters. When a force-strong daughter of Sidious is discovered, what's an Emporer to do but use her to his advantage?

Prologue

It is a little known yet widely guessed fact that the Emperor had many concubines, most of them young enough to be his granddaughters. Any children that might have been conceived were always aborted, though a conception in the first place was nigh impossible.

That is, until one little slave woman conceived, faked her death, and bore a Princess.

The once-slave concubine became a successful dress merchant and the two lived happily, the daughter blissfully ignorant of her origins.

Chapter One: An Imperial Visit

Rumors spread like wildfire of a visit from the Emperor himself to the planet of Naboo, perhaps because of the unrest near their sector with the rebellion passing nearby, or maybe just to visit one of his many palaces.

Plassa assumed the latter. After all, he had at least three palaces in this sector, and the Naboo palace was especially extravagant. Well, it did not matter either way, because she was sure that her studies would kill her by then.

She lay on her bed in their single-story house/ store, tapping her finger on her holopad impatiently. Why did her tutor have to assign so much arithmetic homework over the holidays? The slender, pre-pubescent female yawned and stretched across her soft pink bed, not caring that her ginger hair was coming out of its band. Sounds of laughing children made her ache to venture outdoors, the holo had said it was going to be a nice day, and perhaps her mother and her could go out. Clean air would do her recovering mother good...

She frowned a bit as another strange feeling hit her. She sat up slowly and left her bedroom. The hallway lead straight to the kitchen/workroom. There her lovely mother was putting on a small jacket that was flourished with designs made by her own small hands.

" You are going out again." she stated. Sala had been leaving very often ever since she had caught a strange illness from which she had had only recently recovered. The tall woman looked her over with her dark eyes, so different from Plassa's own pale blue.

" It's amazing how observant you are, little one." Sala teased and smiled her red ruby lips paler than usual. " I'll be gone for a few hours."

"Mom, I know you still won't tell me where you are going, but for your own health, you shouldn't go out today. It's going to be cold rain."

" Rain? Honey, the Holo said that it was going to be sunny and windy all day, not a cloud in the sky." Sala seemed to glide as she walked over to the curtains and drew them back, the bright sunlight pooling on to her skin. " See?"

Plassa rolled her eyes. " Mother, when am I ever wrong, I just know that you should not go out today!"

" Don't get that tone with me young lady!" She shot her daughter a harsh look, but the stubborn teen merely matched it with her own. Why did she never listen? After a few tense seconds Plassa broke her gaze and relaxed.

" Sorry, you'll at least take a raincoat?" Plassa said. She gave her mother her best caring and sad look, which seemed to work well on adults. As predicted, her mother sighed and gave in.

" Fine, fine!" She threw up her hands in surrender. " If you must be so insistent, I will bring the raincoat and wear boots!"

Plassa couldn't help but smile, it was always a satisfactory feeling to get at least a little submission from her persuasion. At least she was learning something in school.

" Oh, " Sala called from the door " Finish your arithmetic! No holo-history till you do!" Plassa grimaced. " Also, there is a paper letter for you on the table, so, if it's important, let me know."

The door shut with a resounding thud throughout out the house. Plassa shook her head and began to hunt through the piles of paperwork, unfinished dresses, and needles until she found the paper.

" That is odd, to receive a paper letter. Those are only used for special occasions..." She observed the old-fashioned envelope and felt her heart skip a beat. Her eyes widened and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

_The Imperial Institute of Higher Learning_

_She quickly tore the envelope out, three papers fell out, and two were the size of a shuttle ticket._

_Dear Miss Plassa Palatin_

_We are pleased to inform you that your marks are in the top five in sixteen different quadrants. This has earned you a future spot in the Imperial Institute of Higher Learning when you reach legal age and the Emperor Palpatine Scholarship to any galactic college of your choice after your I.H.L. career. As you may also know, those who receive this coveted scholarship also have the opportunity to meet the grand Majesty Palpatine, and shake hands with you will find two official tickets to the Emperors Grand Naboo Winter Ball, one for you and the other for your guardian, relative or friend._

_Congratulations,_

_Nefar Gazak_

_Attatched_

Plassa picked up the two tickets, mouth agape, and eyes wide. She had dreamed of this, the same way she had known it would rain, but she had dismissed this picked up the black gold tickets and stared in awe.

No, she wasn't a fan of the Emperor. Who was? However, meeting the most powerful man in the galaxy, that was an honor. Besides, it was a small matter. The Imperial Institute of Higher learning was the Mecca of all knowledge in the galaxy. She could learn everything, learn from the masters. The opportunity of the lifetime was in her very hands.

There was a sound of thunder outside, and the rain started to pour. The door opened with the familiar thud, and dripping wet Sala entered.

" The storm is here, without a doubt!"

...

(Two weeks later)

" Woah! Yousa being plerisous Slassa?" Angar-jar Binks exclaimed as the two walked to class. Plassa grinned at her friend's reaction and nodded.

" In every sense of the word. And I want you to come with me to the Ball. You won't get to meet the Emperor or anything, but there's going to be a lot of food and fancy dancing. You'll love it, and it's only three days away!"

The lankly gungan looked unsure. " Mesa not being very sure. Daddio not so big on da Empire, yousa see. And mesa being real clumsy wanderbaggin dancer. I might boom da tables and caue migo bess!"

Plassa gave him a pleading look. " Aw, you don't have to dance. Just stand around! Besides, your dad's on the council of Gungans right? You have to go to fancy parties sometimes."

Angar laughed nervously as they sat down at their desks and rubbed the back of his neck. " Well, wesa used ta go, till Daddio blowin uppa da 'fresher and I bade mig mess fat ood table." Suddenly his stalk-eyes lit up and he smiled in his usual goofy way. " Eh! Yousa being official kindofa people! Iffen yousa come with me to gig Bungan Ball, Issa kin' come to yousa's Empire Party!"

He stuck out his pale orange hand, his smile a little less goofy than usual. Plassa was impressed; the little gungan was starting to learn politics. She shook his hand and laughed.

" One day, our handshakes might move entire planets Angar. "

" Dat would be mooey mooey bombad." He said as he got out his holo-pad. The bell rang for class and the teacher called them to attention.

" Before we begin classes today, I would like us all to congratulate Miss Palatin for receiving the Imperial Scholarship."

She smiled coldly, her eyes dull. The rest of the class applauded quietly. Plassa knew that it was nothing against her, the very word "Imperial" made the eyes of any citizen dull and their mood sour.

...

Plassa tied to read her book, one the few paper books the library still offered but couldn't focus on the biography of Queen Amidala. Her mother sat across from her, working on another dress.

" Mom, why won't you come to the ball?" Plassa decided to forget any politeness and went straight to the heart of the matter.

Sala didn't stop working. " It's not a place for someone like me. I'd spend the whole night critiquing dresses, and feeling out of place."

Plassa watched her mothers' face as she spoke. It was very calm, straight and controlled. But she could see her pupils dilate and her mouth twitch into a frown.

Liar. She thought bitterly. Of all people, she wished that at least her mother could be honest.

" It's because of the Emperor, right? Are you ashamed that I am going to be associated with him in the smallest way?" Plassa sneered.

Sala stopped working and looked into her daughter's eyes, a sad, hurt look, like a kicked puppy, bore into Plassa's heart. She flinched and said nothing more, and the subject was dropped.

" Well, I'm done with this one." Sala said, her face transforming into a smile. She held up a beautiful floor-length formal gown. It was a soft pink, with small ruffles and a v-neck. Plassa gasped and felt the silk material. Her mother's gifts never ceased to amaze.

" You must be getting a load of money for this! This is the most expensive material..." her mother held up a gorgeous white tandor gem necklace

.

" Who is this for?"

Sala smiled and put the dress in the arms of her daughter. " I got a letter at least three months back about your accomplishment."

Plassa looked up at her, eyes watering. She did this for her?

" I couldn't be prouder of you, y'know? You are my life. You will do great things. This is my present to you, and that material will grow with you. You will always have it, and maybe even your granddaughters will..."

Plassa put the dress on the table and engulfed her mother in a hug. Who cared about some stupid ball anyway? Her mother was not ashamed of

her, she was proud. Why would she, how could she, ever think any different? All the sneaking out, all the hours away, must have been earning money for the dress.

" I love it...thank you."

" It's my pleasure, dear. Anything for you."

...

Night of the Ball

...

Angar and Plassa arrived at the palace exactly on time, and Plassa couldn't help but be swept away. The high archways, spacious ceilings, the beautiful reds and whites all working together on the Outside of the palace took her breath away. The Ball itself took place in a highly decorated and equally magnificent Pavilion outside of the Palace. She was slightly disappointed.

" Imagine how wonderful it must be on the inside, if the outside is so majestic." She whispered to Angar. Angar frowned.

" Mesa thinking' that it no lookin good iffen it have him in it."

Plassa shushed him and oppressed the childish urge to hit his shoulder. " Are you daft? Politics to yourself, enjoy the party..." she added in a whisper " We are surrounded by troops and special agents."

Angar gulped audibly and remained deathly quiet for the rest of the evening. As soon as he found the food tables, however, he began to enjoy himself immensely.

Plassa found herself outside of the crowd and decided to put her skills to the test. Mingling was a must skill for a politician.

She approached a younger looking crowd first, who she assumed to be the other receivers of the Higher learning scholarship.

" Good evening, all." She said politely. The three human males turned to her, a very snobbish air about them.

A strange feeling overtook her again, and the words " what is a peasant girl doing here" rang in her ear. The tallest of them began to speak, but Plassa quickly beat him to it.

" Ah, I see you three must also be receivers of the Scholarship. I can tell by the way you carry yourselves, you must know very much." She made direct eye contact with the teenage boy who would have snubbed her. " Especially considering that you are, " the name suddenly came into her mind, and a family history " Jashnar Seelvu! What a wonderful rags to riches to story your family has! Imagine, a janitor and a reformed prostitute's son earning such a high position, how very inspiring." she added a snobbish tone in her voice for emphasis.

Jashnar's fat face reddened, the smaller boys exchanged smirks. So that was it, this Jashnar acted high and mighty to these two of high status to try and fit in? He excused himself quickly. Plassa smiled at the two boys. The first was very short, with greased-back hair and lake-green eyes. The other was very skinny and lanky with a hooknose and curly blonde hair.

" Now, don't you try to pretend on us, we can tell the difference." The greasy one sneered.

" I'm not ashamed of my status." Plassa cooed. " My mother is a fashion designer, a pioneer in her field. It is an honor to be her daughter." The blonde one smiled at this and gave her a long bow.

" My name is Joel Tarkin. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?"

" Plassathanoilia Palatin. However, most call me Plassa."

The two shook hands. The greasy one shook his head and laughed, walking away. Joel frowned. " That's quite rude of him."

" I would pay him no attention, he is nothing but a rich boy who needs to learn manners, maybe have someone stick a pin in his over-sized head."

Music began to play a beautiful Vasle dance. Couples began to line up and dance to the slow beat and the singing strings.

Joel put out his hand. " May I have the honor of this dance?" His kind blue eyes shone from his hollow cheeks. She gulped, trying to remember all of her dance lessons at once, and followed his lead.

The stepped in and out, around, they flowed like water. She never thought herself a good dancer and attributed the skill to him, not knowing that he thought the very same way.

She found herself unable to look away from his blue eyes as they glided across the floor, until suddenly, those eyes seemed to melt before her. Through the blue swirls a dark cold over took her senses...she saw a boy, rowdy and unkempt, with an insane look in his eye.

There was a bomb strapped to his chest!

Suddenly, fire everywhere, engulfing the dancers, Joel, and coming for her...

" Plassatha? Plassatha? "

The stench of smoke still hung in her nostrils, her face hot from fire. Slowly her senses came back to her. Joel was speaking. She was in his arms, nearly on the ground...

Her face turned beat red when "in his arms" came to realization. She tried to sit up, and managed to, albeit slowly. Her head was spinning.

" What happened here?" A dull raspy, cold voice suddenly rang out. The feeling of cold swept her body again, and she must have been going insane, but she could feel power. Raw power, emitting from above her.

" Your majesty! Please forgive us, Plassatha had a bit of a spell." Joel said quickly. He helped her stand up and balanced her by holding one arm around her waist. Plassa smoothed her pink dress out as best she could and finally met the gaze of the Emperor.

Her blue eyes locked into his feral yellow. Plassa kept eye contact as she bowed and greeted him.

" You two are also ones who received the Scholarships. I congratulate you." His porcelain pale face full of cracks and wrinkles, remained stoic.

" Thank you, you highness. I will become successful and a useful asset to the Empire and society." Joel said, his intelligent eyes bright and full of passion.

" See that you do, young Tarkin."

The continual feeling of harm coming, the fire, and the rough boy with the bomb were sill crystal clear in her mind. " Thank you your Majesty, I too will use my abilities to become a successful contributor to society. "The same feeling was coming over her. From behind the Emperor she saw the boy from her vision walking in to the pavilion.

" That boy! He has a bomb! " She yelled to a trooper. He merely stared. She growled in frustration and found herself running past the Emperor towards the small boy. He was taking out his bomb and his small mouth opened to scream.

She grabbed him and pinned him to the ground, and pried the bomb from his clenched fist.

5...

What now?

4...

Throw it!

3...

" NO!"

2...

The bomb is thrown, somehow farther than she had ever seen

**1**

A loud pop, followed by a burning sensation, a warm body suddenly covered her.

Then blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Yes, re-writing this chapter.

Chapter Two: Career Path

After nearly a month unconscience in a bacta tank, one tends to be very sore. Plassatha discovered this painful fact when she sat up in her hosiptal bed, like one awaking from a nightmare.

Her eyes adjusted to the harsh light, so different from the darkness of sleep. The metallic walls and over hanging light seemed to be squeezed together, as if a great hand had squeezed a once tolerably spacious room into a claustrophobics nightmare. Usual unnopticeable smells overwhelmed her unused olefactory. The smell of the bacta, a mix of body odor and chalky medicine, made her groan and wish the pain would cease, so she could double over on to her stomach in a vain attempt to hold back the naseua.

She wasn't alone. The awful, icy presence of power was there. The Emperor.

" Your...highness?" she strained. She had not seen him with her eyes, but she knew he was there. Her neck muscles popped and groaned as she turned her head towards the Emperor.

From the shadows, a figure emerged. It almost seemed as if the shadows themselves followed behind him and enveloped his decrepit body.

_ You survived. You have some worth to you, be grateful I recognize it._

She winced as she felt the icy words travel in her mind. It was unsettling to hear the emperors voice without seeing his cracked lips move.

_It would be at this point i would have you become an agent of Darkness, solely existign to do my bidding..._

Her eyes widened. He chuckled, low and deep, but with a nasal tone that made it ring in her ears.

_However, you have talents that I have need of. _

_..why...why...should I do anything...that...you say? You've done nothing for me. I've come this far through my own efforts, by maturing and growing far beyond my own years! I already have my own plans laid out, i'm not changing them for anyone!_

Plassa panicked after being so frank with her thoughts to the dark Emperor. She was not accustomed to controlling every whizzing thought, fancy, and selfish statement in her mind, because no one else had ever had access to her private sanctum.

The Emperor laughed aloud.

_Much how I was, long before I knew the powers of the Dark side. You may even be more ambitious, I can sense your desire for control._

_It's-it's not just that! My mother taught me to use my talents for the good of the galaxy, being a senator in the local government, even in a controlled one, would help others more than it would help me. _

_You lie to yourself, you still desire success above all else. Throw away these simple-minded ideas of "servign others". We both know the truth, or, at least, you soon will discover it._

_Why do you even care about what I do? I'm just a thirteen year old student from Naboo...Your highness._

_Your mother was a concubine of mine, I allowed her to concieve and escape. I have forseen that you will be very useful to me in matters that I do not wish to waste more valuable resources on. When that time is over, you will be put under intense training to become one of my agents._

_You...are...my father..?_

_Yes, child. You will serve me well, or your mother does not live another day._

He left the room without another word.

Chills ran through her body, counterbalanced by the warm tears flowing down her face.


	3. Stinging Ice and Makeup

Yes, re-writing this chapter.

Chapter Three: Old and new

" Issa it true what theysa say, Missa palatin?"

A familar and very anxoius voice interupted Plassa's dreamless sleep.

" Angar, if I could tell you, I would."

Her mother was there too, then.

" Datsa mean she weally is den, huh. Messa smarter dan I wook, Miss Palatin."

Finally, plassa was able to fight the weights holding her eyelids down. Her bright eyes opened. Her mother's graceful form sat next to her, her dark eyes bloodshot and wet. Next to her was Angar.

" Plassa, yousa awake!' Angar exclaimed loudly, perhaps too loudly. " Wesa thought that yousa being in bigo trouble dor a fwile dere!"

Plassa smiled slightly, Angar was always a source of amusement and joy, even if it did come wiht the occasional headache. " It is good to see you to."

Her eyes fell on her mother. The young girl's smile faded into a deadpan.

" Mother."

" Plassa, we were so worried. What did you think you were doing!"

Plassa narrowed her eyes. " Saving everyone's life. The gaurd was incompent and no one else seemed to notice the danger." She said dully. Her face hardened. " I heard you two talking when I woke up. I suppose that Angar knows, then, about my lineage. "

Angar nodded solemnly and spoke slowly. " de emperor boss announceded yousa being da bombad princess." He smiled slightly. " Yousa shoulda being seen mesa face when mesa be hearing dat bit of neferwhillling news. Mesa nearly be choking on mesa lunch!"

Plassa tried to smile for his sake, he really was just tyring to humor her, but it wasn't working.

' Angar, do you think you could go ask a nurse to get me some water?" She asked witha fake cough. " I'm parched."

" Oh, youssa ban be counting on mesa!" He exclaimed as he darted out, knocking over a chair as he went.

Sala followed him. " I better make sure he doesn't destory the entire wing..." She said quickly as she went towards the door.

" Stay." Plassa's tone was quiet, but also sharp and angry. Sala slowly turned back and sat back down. They didn't look at eachother. Plassa sat, fuming, her face red and jaw set. A volcano ready to burst.

" He was here, wasn't he?" Sala said softly. " I can sense him. it's like stinging ice."

_Sense him?_ Plassa turned to her mother.

" Yes, I have that power to. The same one that tells you when it will rain."

Plassa's body became rigid. She asked curtly. " So, why couldn't it tell you of the danger of the Ball?"

Sala smiled sadly, her eyes becoming dams to salty rivers." I'm not quite as strong as I once was. But as you become stronger, I'm startgin to become more in-tune with the Fo- with this power."

Plassa's hands clenched the bedsheets and her knuckles went white.

" Why-why didn't you tell me!" She exclaimed. " How could I have known the danger! Do you know what will happen to you if this "princess" thing doesn't work out! Do you know what he will do with me once my usefulness is over?"

Sala merely stared numbly, but the dams began to burst and the salty rivers flowed down her cheek canals. Plassa didn't care, she didn't notice, all she could see where red, bloody lies surrounding her, She hated it. It was all forced on her, all her plans ruined.

She **hated** it. She closed her eyes shut so tight that hot tears squeezed out.

_Let them all know it! _A horrible voice, her own, but twisted and hoarse rang in her ears. It became a music, dark, full of selfish undertones and a beat fueled by her racing heart. Anger, fury, rage, aggresion, and pure fear all rushed through her at once.

" Plassa..." Sala's eyes widened. She knew this feeling, the darkness. Her daughter didn't hear her.

The room began to shake, the bacta bags burst and the deactivated nurse droid crumpled like a tin can. The lights dimmed and flickered with Plassa's fury.

" Stop it! Stop it!" Sala grabbed her daughter by the cheeks and sobbed. Little tainted flecks of yellow and a red rim had tainted the girl. She grabbed her and pressed her only child tightly to her chest. " I wanted to tell you." She whispered. " But then, I would have to tell you everything. It was too risky. Please, let the anger go, darling. I love you so much. Please forgive me. _Please_."

The anger slowly subsided and the darkness hid, but she could sense it waiting in the shadows, like a monster ready to snatch and grab her daughter's soul. She would not let it take her.

Plassa was sobbing into her mother's chest. What was that feeling? She didn't understand it. She didn't understand any of it. She hated it, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Finally, she got control of herself. The girl lifted herself off her mother.

" I suppose you can't tell me what that... Power that was, can you?"

Sala shook her head and wiped the tears from Plassa's eyes as she did when the girl was a carefree child. " No, but I can tell you that no matter what happens, you must not let that...dark power control you again, nor you controlling it. It's dangerous. "

Plassa nodded. Sala got up and went towards the door.

" I better see what's keeping up Angar."

" Mom?" Plassa called out suddenly, urgently.

Sala turned. Plassa would always see her mother in her memory just as this. A slender form standing against some secret enemy, her dark eyes flashing with love, sorrow, and determination. A beautiful face that covered secret scars. Plassa imagined that, a million dark and also good secrets lie with her, and each one could change Plassa's life.

She radiated something..something was forming in her mother's mind. She was involved. A plan? Her feeling from the Power and her own gut instinct told her so.

" I-I love you."

Sala smiled, but her eyes became wet again as she spoke. " Your a good girl, plassa, I love you. Don't ever change."

Then, she left.

Plassa looked down at her hands and felt sick. That horrible voice, her own twisted thoughts, whispered.

_You better reconsider not using the Strength and Power.. It's the only hope your mother may have._

Plassa sighed and leaned against the pillow, hoping to drown it out in sleep.

...

Two weeks later.

...

The green Twil-eck handmaid insisted on making her appearance perfect, and it annoyed Plassa to no end. She wasn't going to a ball, nor a party, not even a ribbon-cutting ceremony.

No, Princess Plassathanoilia Aurora** Palpatine,** a thirteen year old, was going to a mid-rim planet to try to bring a peaceful end to the recent skirmishes against the regional governor on the planet Libaiya. And, only being two weeks out of recovery on top of that.

Despite not finishing her schooling at all, she was apparently the best one for the job because of her raw natural talents. She didn't buy it for a moment. The emperor had mentioned using her in order to "save more valuable resources." So, if she could make them resubmit without using a blaster that a trooper could be usign to blast away a rebel or two, she would be worthwhile to him. If she was not useful, she would be become a "agent", and her mother would be killed. If she did not succeed as an agent , she would be killed, or perhaps killed in the line of her solem duty to the glorious Empire.

So, the logical conclusion was to become...this.

_Self-preservation calls for drastic measures. _She thought with an inward sigh. Though with the reports of the violence on the planet, she may end up dead while trying to prevent death from coming to her in the first place. _Perhaps this is a test, if I survive and end this properly and to his liking, I am worthy to go on. If not..._She shuddered to think of what might happen.

" M'lady, the shuttle will be landing soon. Your Speech is ready, I assume? "

Yet another assistant, an elder human lady and a professorial in all things political and aesthetic. She walked into the room with unexpected graced from one of her short shape and pear-shaped body, holo-pad in one wrinkled hand. The woman pushed her small spectacles up the bridgeof her small, pointed nose, her sharp face starkly contrasted her plump body.

" Yes, Lady Jonna." Plassa could have called her by her first name, but habit still overruled her to call those older and wiser with respectful titles, and she did not wish to lose it." I wrote and re-wrote it hours ago. Do want to look over it?" She answered as she allowed the Twileck handmaiden to lift her arm to adjust a few more stitches.

" I trust that you will do well enough. I have seen your scores, very high marks for one so young. You will do very well."

Plassa felt her face flush and said nothing. Finally, the handmaiden finished. And no wonder she couldn't find herself in the mirror, for now her face had been painted white, but this makeover was in no way similar to the majesty of the past Queens of Naboo. It was dark, harshly lined, and to Plassa, she seemed nearly inhuman.

Plassathanoilia stared at her reflection in her floor length mirror. No matter how long she looked, she seemed unable to find herself. The beautiful but simple garbs her mother had made now laid on the bed. She nearly slapped her new handmaid for trying to throw them away, for she knew the hours and hours of work her mother spent to create each of her masterpieces.

Masterpiece was not a word she would have used to describe her present attire. Overdressed, intimidating or perhaps what happens when a monochromatic rainbow and blood rain down on a harsh dictator. Her poor ginger locks had been forced into long hair extensions and into a strange sort of crown of red, silver, and black. Instead of her simple but ornate shirt, a high collar framed her neck and face. Everyhting was dark robes now, or shiny black metal for the jewelery.

" I look nothing like myself." She stated dully. Jonna raised an eyebrow at her.

" My dear, that is precisely the point."

Plassa didn't agree. If she truly was to connect with these people and make them listen, how could she do that when she was so far removed from them in dress? But, she was the princess now, so...

Wait. She was the_ kriffing imperial princess_! If she wanted something a certain way, she should get it that way.

" Lady Jonna, I'm changing the point." she said with a smile. Despite Jonna's unmoving face, she could feel approval and happiness flow from her. It startled Plassa at first, but then she remembered. _the Emporer seemed to hint that I had special powers. I must be Empathic!_

She let herself smile. This would be a very useful tool to her.


	4. Tests

**Disclaimer**: I don't own star wars, never have, never will. this is just for fun.

Chapter Four: Tests and Tutors

The first day was relatively easier than Plassa expected, a simple reassuring speech to the still-loyal inhabitants. Her outfit had been altered by her own hand. Her black red and white robes had become a formal Naboo-style dress, a royal hairdo worn by it's Queens, and little makeup. Yet her crown kept her from being totally wiht the people, which was the desired affect. With them, and not of them. Abouve and for but never equal. Her deomcratic senses hated it, but Plassa assumed that as the poster Princess of the Empire she had to carry a certain air around her. The Regional governor had noticed, somethign she called a "negative" side affect. He was a fat old man with slaves and a greedy appetite with a skinny and spineless son that he loved to hint marriage toward.

The next task were more daunting. But, after three days of communicating through primitive radio signals, the "terroists" (or heroes, depending on who you spoke to) had finally agreed to meet for talks at the Libyian Palace of Freedom. The golden palace large as a Super-star Destoryer and could fit a quarter of the planet's population inside, and was a culture unto itself. And everyone inside, Loyalist and Seperater alike, had gathered together.

According to the tradition, One from each side of the conflict it put in the middle of a circle of black-robed priests of the goddess of speech. The stage was set.

Plassa took a calming breath and prayed to the Naboo gods that she never believed in until she was in trouble. She walked into the circle slowly, locking eyes with the blue-skinned and three-armed Native rebel leader.

" Ambassador Chi'the, thank you for coming." She said with a polite bow. The Native stared at her with all three yellow eyes for a while before speaking.

" Princess Palpatine, we are glad to hear you will listen to our terms of negotiation." He said slowly, still scanning her with his eyes. It was a game. Non-humans would use their body parts that were alien to the human race or another race to disorient them. Plassa quickly channeled her energies into focusing on his two "normal" eyes.

" Then let us begin, by all means, Ambassador. We of the Empire understand you wish to break away from the Empire, and have disrupted the peace of this planet. Do you agree?"

His face remained still as he denied and began spewing rebel propaganda, but Plassa began to sense the strange power around her again. She took hold of it in her mind and began to tune into the emotions of the Ambassador.

Fear, anger, and most of all hate hit her like an ocean wave. Yet, past the emotions, she felt a horrible stinging sensation. She had felt it from the Emporer. It was a lie, no, a** plot. **

_If only I could reach into his mind and see what he's up to._ She quickly turned her ears back to what he was saying. He claimed that the Empire was oppressive and took away the basic freedoms that all beings deserve. Plassa nearly cried hearing that, because she believed it to. But she could never have anyone know, for her mother's sake.

" ...and so this oppression must stop! High taxes, no rights of court, say anything against it and you disappear in the night..."

" You are still here, ambassador. " Plassa said before she could stop herself. " And, I am sorry to say, this "oppression" you speak of, well higher taxes pay for an army to protect the people across the galaxy, the Court rights are supposed to be handled by the local government under the regional governors, so you can't blame the Empire for that. "

His face began to turn purple. She was getting to him, and she was going to press her luck. The Audience was captivated by her boldness.

" But, this Empire is not perfect because under a wise Emperor " she kept herself from gagging through that lie before continuing. " There are many, many other rulers designated to serve you. If one of these regional govenors is abusing their power, instead of blaming the entire Empire..." She paused and smiled. " That is why I am here. " She lied, and she hated herself for liking it. For liking how the audience gasped in suprise or frowned in skepticism. She enjoyed the anger from the ambassador at the fact she had turned the talks against him. Well, why not have a little political fun while fighting for survival for yourself and your mother?

" My father heard of horrible abuses of power, and if any has happened here, I am here to fix it." She locked eye contact for a brief moment with the annoying govenor and smiled wickedly.

The ambassador bowed and suddenly left. The circle of warriors suddenly drew into a tight circle around her, six aroud her, six fighting off her gaurds.

_Why is it that my bodyguards are useless whenever I actually need them?_

The ambassador was shouting something about a revolution and sacrafice, the hooded warriors all had their swords drawn at her throat. Things were looking bad.

" And now we will show the Empire how much we hate them by destroying their little brat."

Uh-oh. Plassa shut her eyes and tried to focus in on her power, she found it surrounding her. She had to push them away. Push! She held out her hand, but before she could perform, she felt something cold and metal in her hand.

" Activate it now!" A female voice commaned. Plassa was too frighted to open her eyes, but felt for the button on the strange metal. A loud hum filled her ears. Finally she opened her eyes. The eleven warriors and the ambassador were firing at her, next to her was one of the " warriors", but without a hood. SHe was a tall and beautiful woman with hard green eyes and red hair, And in her hand was a red beam of light, and Plassa looked to the metal in her hand and saw one just like it. A red lasersword?

" What the..."

" Use your instincts and follow me." The woman barked. Plassa obeyed and began to waved the sword around, trying to block the blaster shots. She was able to stop some vital ones, but many hit her robes. THe woman grabbed her by the arm and began to run. Plassa could feel her feet leaving the ground several times.

They ran through the golden halls and to the shuttle. Every muscle in Plassa's body ached and she could barely breathe, and if she hadn't been blocking blaster bolts the entire way she would have been more amazed that the redhead woman hadn't broken a sweat in the entire twenty kilo run. She practically through Plassa into the shuttle and took off into the skies.

After catching her breath, Plassa paled and began to tremble. SHe fell into her seat and curled up into a ball, hugging her knees like a long lost friend.

" I failed. I failed." She sobbed. " Mother is going to die now."


End file.
